


Looking

by rexluscus



Category: Pet Shop of Horrors
Genre: Intersex!D, Other, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-04
Updated: 2011-07-04
Packaged: 2017-10-21 01:10:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rexluscus/pseuds/rexluscus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The blessing and curse of sleeping with a gorgeous creature like D is that everyone wants to be you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looking

Wherever they go, people stare.

One of them, an unremarkable guy with a ten-dollar haircut and a cheap leather jacket; the other, an astonishing, androgynous beauty in embroidered Chinese finery. No one knows what to think, but they all feel something. Wonder turns to confusion as men flick their eyes in dismay from glowing face to narrow hips and wide shoulders; women note the boyish body with a fascinated thrill. And at first no one notices the man whose hand hovers possessively at his companion's back, but when they do, they see his eyes dart nervously from face to face, as though afraid someone might steal his prize away. 

*

They're still in that honeymoon phase where they can't keep their hands off each other, and every closet, single-stall bathroom and unlit corner looks like an oasis in the desert. The funny thing is, Leon can't remember any honeymoon phase ever lasting this long. He's beginning to wonder if they're both suffering from some sort of chemical imbalance. Or is sex with an immortal nature god addictive? Well—if it's a fatal condition, he has no outstanding debts and it's a hell of a way to go.

The only downside is a whole untapped reservoir of rabid jealousy he never knew he had.

"I hate the way they look at you," he mutters, glaring pointedly at a gaping newsstand vendor.

D turns away and smiles, obviously taking it in a complimentary spirit. "They're only looking, Detective."

"Yeah, well—can't they just read their goddamn papers and mind their own business?"

"If it's any comfort to you, none of them recognize what they're seeing."

He isn't sure what D is referring to, because it could be any number of things. The fact that D is something a few degrees to the right of human. The fact that he's over a hundred years old. Or—Leon smiles—the fact that he's anatomically...unique.

"That's right," Leon mutters, tightening his arm around D's waist and letting his fingers stray just a little bit too low. "None of 'em know what you're hiding underneath this dress."

D squirms slightly and Leon knows why. He taps his fingers and his smile grows.

*

A few times, they can't make it. During one of D's unsuccessful bids to make Leon over into a man of culture, they sneak out of their seats during the second act while the ushers and coat-check girls sneak in, and do it on the floor of the coat room. For once, D's robe opens down the front and Leon comes within minutes, mesmerized by that inky black hair spilled out over the carpet and that long lustrous strip of white flesh from throat to groin beaded with moisture and arching as Leon pounds inside. Long legs twined around his waist nearly crush him when D comes, hard and loud, in gradually subsiding waves. They don't bother watching the rest of the play, and D's complaints are mostly for show as they hurry home.

This time, in the more dangerous territory of the precinct, Leon finds an unused hallway containing a discarded curtain rod, complete with curtain, and D protests until he's no longer capable of protesting. It's stuffy and dusty and there's not a lot of room to move around. D leans against the wall and watches from beneath heavy lids as Leon fights his way through the layers of D's side-fastening robe until giving up and hiking the whole thing above his waist. He finds warm skin quicker than he expects to.

"Are you always naked under these things or is it just lately?" Leon growls as he jerks down his fly. 

"We're all naked under our clothes, Detective." D attempts wry but it comes out too breathless to convince.

By now, Leon is running a thumb up the underside of D's cock and curling fingers around the velvety head. It took time to get over the strangeness of another man's cock in his hand, but it excites him now, if only because of the association with what's behind. He palms the whole package, cupping the tight little balls and mashing D's cock against his smooth belly, before slipping two fingers behind into slippery heat. D whimpers and hisses through his teeth. Then his body freezes for a moment. "Detective—I do not think your reputation will recover—if we are caught—"

Leon manages a breathy chuckle. "Can't you just make us look like cocker spaniels humping or something...?"

There's no time to snipe back. In a single move, Leon hooks an elbow under D's knee and lifts, then slides inside that luscious heat, and words tangle in D's throat in a choked cry. They stare at each other for a moment, eyes unfocused, lips parted—a strand of D's hair is caught on his glistening lips and Leon doesn't think he's ever seen anything so erotic—before a second, deeper thrust tips D's head back against the wall and he breathes out a hot, needy moan.

It's fast. They never last very long, at least not this early in the day. Later, when they've got a bed under them, Leon will manage all the toppings and dressings, but right now, he just needs to get them both off as soon as fucking possible. 

Without meaning to, he thinks about the people whose heads had swiveled to stare as he and D walked by. Images flood in, of all those people watching them now as he fucks D, plunders all this beauty, strips it, cracks it open, for all of them to see. Watching D with his thighs spread, naked from the waist down, wet with his own juices as Leon fucks him so hard he lifts him off his feet. Leon's dizzy with need now, D's hot little gasps sending darts down his spine, and as D begins to come with a jerk and rhythmic, liquid clenches, Leon lets himself go as well.

Afterward, D tries to straighten his clothes as Leon traps him with his arms and suckles on his neck. Everyone in Chinatown knows D; Leon wonders if the dry-cleaner will gossip about the stains on the rich silk robes.

"I was thinking about all those people watching you," he murmurs against soft skin. "How much they'd love to be me."

D giggles. "Are humans so preoccupied with sex that they would think such things while drinking their morning coffee?"

"I'll let you answer that one." He inhales, breathing the scent of D's hair. "They were all thinking about what they wanted to do with you...to you..." He nuzzles an ear. "Even the straight guys..."

D smiles against his cheek. "Just like you."

Leon grins. "That's how I know!"

But Leon's pretty much given up on the fantasy of being straight. With D, all that stuff seems unimportant; how could you worry about mundane things like gay or straight when you had...this?

All of those poor people. Catching just a glimpse of this stunning thing, feeling the extraordinary brush past, recognizing for just a moment the dullness of their little lives. To think, that had been Leon once.

*

They do their best to sneak out of the precinct since Leon knows exactly what's written on his face. Hell, D's too, if you know him. On the street, more people stare, but it doesn't bother him. If any of them even notice him, he knows what they're thinking: there goes one lucky son of a bitch. He allows himself a secretive little D-like smile.


End file.
